How to Make a Bad Decision
by catastrophechao
Summary: If you had asked Yukio in the past (like yesterday) why it was he thought Toudou Saburota had completely failed to kill him, he would have told you... very little, actually. A shade OOC and no longer canon compliant. Yukio/Toudou snippet.


AN: This was originally meant to be multi-part, and linear, but without much actual plot. However, in light of recent releases, it's no longer canonical, so I probably won't do much more with it. Figured I'd post it anyway though!

Today

If you had asked Yukio in the past (like yesterday) why it was he thought Toudou Saburota had completely failed to kill him, despite possessing both the power and the opportunity he would have told you... very little, actually. He would have smiled, and, depending on who you were, exactly, said either A. that he didn't know what you were talking about, or B. that it was all a matter of good luck and capable backup. If you could have wrested an honest opinion from him, though, he would have put it less to fortune and more to the Illuminiati's hope that he could be turned to their cause. The organization clearly felt that while Yukio was sufficiently competent to make a worthwhile asset (to be used against Rin, no doubt), he was not powerful enough to pose a threat to them in and of himself, and thus they let him live.

But that would have been yesterday.

Today, December 3rd, a chilly Saturday of no consequence, Toudou shows up, if not on Yukio's doorstep, then close enough to it. He finds him on the outskirts of the city where Yukio likes to roam when he can't settle. The man looks more like a flunky than he usually does, in his cap and devil's uniform. The lines around his eyes are deeper and the feathers are gone, but he fights the same. He throws Yukio around, burns him, mocks him, regenerates in bits and pieces - always teeth first, like the Cheshire Cat.

Yukio's at a disadvantage from the start, down an arm, though the adrenaline spike keeps him from noticing the pain. He managing to hold his own, at least, and spares a moment to feel lucky that a gun is a one-handed weapon. And then Yukio stumbles, apparently into an alternate dimension, because suddenly Toudou has him against the wall, is splitting his lip with a well-timed blow, knocking his head against the brick, and kissing him.

And now, well, now not even Yukio is sure what to say.

It is a strange experience.

He hadn't been expecting this, which frightens him a little because Yukio is a man who tries to expect everything. For someone who has always been weak, being able to anticipate his opponent's moves has been his saving grace more than once. But _this-_ this comes at him completely out of left-field. Oh, he knew Toudou felt some sort of kinship with him, drew parallels between their experiences. He had assumed that was why was he, and not Rin, was most often the focus of Toudou's attention. Yukio was meant to be the weak link, the traitor. Any fool, any demon, could see that Rin was incorruptible.

Yukio knows he should shoot the monster (again). Third time's the charm, isn't that what they say? He's got two bullets left, his gun is in his hand and his arm is still free. It would be nothing to put a fresh hole through Toudou's shoulder, or his back, or even his head, if Yukio's lucky, but he feels oddly disinclined.

Toudou's lips are warmer than Yukio's, and his tongue, when he drags it over Yukio's bloody lower lip, is hot. Yukio can't think of anything to compare it to. It doesn't burn, like he would have expected (as if he could ever have expected this), and Toudou's teeth are occasional points of pressure, but it doesn't hurt. It doesn't hurt at all.

It feels good.

Yukio's not sure when he opened his mouth, let Toudou kiss deeper, permitted the heat of the monster's tongue to slide across his teeth. He should put a stop to this, he knows. No good can come of it, and there's some risk to be had, making out with demons. There are those that can draw power from such intimacies, and while he thinks Toudou would look more like a pop idol and less like a middle school science teacher with a drinking problem if had he acquired the power of a succubus-type demon, it always pays to be careful.

But still, he doesn't pull the trigger.

And Toudou is shifting, kissing his jaw, sliding his mouth down Yukio's throat, and Yukio shivers, and finally tries to shift his free hand only to find he doesn't have one anymore. Toudou's got his good arm pinned to the wall now, apparently having realized that fooling around with an exorcist can also be dangerous. The man's grip is unyielding, but gentle: the only new bruises Yukio's going to have in the morning will be on his neck.

"I like you," Toudou says when he finally breaks away. "You're interesting." He has to lean up on his toes to press his forehead against Yukio's, to meet Yukio's eyes, "and not bad looking."

"What do you want from me?" Yukio sounds hoarse, even to himself, and he doesn't know why.

"Everything," Toudou says.

Yukio swallows, realizes his mouth is dry. Maybe the monster did burn me, he thinks, and I just didn't notice. It wouldn't be the strangest thing that's happened today. Toudou's gaze has shifted back to his mouth, and Yukio can feel the man against him as he leans in for another kiss, the shift of muscle and bone beneath the thick wool of their coats. He didn't realize they were pressed so close.

He should stop this. He should _want_ to stop this. He has always hated Toudou, the man is smug and arrogant and completely amoral. He's dangerous. But Yukio _doesn't_ want to stop. He wants to let go. Wants to fight his hands free and fist them in Toudou's hair and maybe hurt him a little and maybe be hurt a little and not worry about anything for a while and maybe even be warm. God, he _is_ going crazy.

Yukio closes his eyes and remembers how Izumo's mother looked, withered and wasted and wrapped in bloody crusted bandages. "No," he manages, a whisper, a mumble, but Toudou hears him. The demon-eater kisses his jawline and whispers back.

"No?" He says.

Yukio's shifts his grip on his gun. He coughs, clears his throat. "No," he says again, louder this time. "No." He waits until the demon eater looks back up into his eyes, "I'm not doing this. Whatever it is you're hoping to get from this - no. I'm not going to be some tool for you."

Toudou chuckles, goes up on his toes again and leans even closer, lips right by Yukio's ear. "You already are," he purrs, like it's some kind of confidence, something Yukio didn't already know, "just not to the Illuminati. Do you really think the True Cross Order is any better? Mephisto is every bit the demon our leader is, and Lightning is easily Geuodin's equal in cruelty."

"They saved us," Yukio counters, "took us in. They-"

"They stole you. Nearly killed you. May still."

Yukio scoffs at that. "And you won't?"

"No, we won't." Toudou drops back on his heels, suddenly business, though the distance between them can be measured in inches. "We have a use for you, and your brother."

"Everyone has a use for me," Yukio snaps, "and my brother."

Toudou just chuckles, and presses a warm, dry kiss to his cheek.

"I don't see what you find so funny."

The demon shakes his head. He's smiling, and Yukio finds it more aggravating than he should, all things considered. "You're a pawn to them. You'll always be a pawn, you're too idealistic, too ethical, to be anything more, on either side."

"I'm not so pure and innocent as you think."

"That's like a kitten saying it's fierce. Certainly, you're immoral, but only when compared to other angels. Join us then," Another chuckle, dry like rustling leaves or the crackle of fire, "show everyone how _bad_ you can be."

"No." Yukio says again, looking down at Toudou looking up at him. "You've betrayed your family, your organization, and the students who trusted you. You're a liar and a murderer and a monster." The words burn on his tongue, hotter than Toudou's kisses and more true.

"Are you talking to me or yourself?"

Yukio's eyes narrow. He hates this man, hates him, doesn't want his esteem. "And that uniform looks fucking ridiculous."

This time Toudou _really_ laughs, loud and sincere. "Well now," he says, "that _is_ an insurmountable obstacle," and he presses Yukio back into the bricks again, all of him warm.

Yukio isn't sure how long they stay there, kissing in the watery winter afternoon; one moment they are wrapped up in each other, the next he is alone, breathing hard, the air still steaming around him.

He waits with his back to the wall until he is cold again. He doesn't realize until he's halfway home that Toudou had somehow managed to place the hideous, nazi-esque hat on his head. He throws it in the snow, picks it up, tucks it into his coat. Keeps it.


End file.
